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ALTEMUS’ 

ETERNAL LIFE SERIES. 

Selections from the writings of well-known religious authors ' 
works, beautifully printed and daintily bound In leatherette 
with original designs in silver and ink. 


PRICE, 25 CENTS PER VOLUME. 


ETERNAL LIFE, by Professor Henry Drummond. 
LORD, TEACH US TO PRAY, by Rev. Andrew Murray. 
GOD’S WORD AND GOD’S WORK, by Martin Luther. 
FAITH, by Thomas Arnold. 

THE CREATION STORY, by Honorable William E- 
Gladstone. 

THE MESSAGE OF COMFORT, by Rt. Rev. Ashton 
Oxenden. 

THE MESSAGE OF PEACE, by Rev. R. W. Church. 
THE LORD’S PRAYER AND THE TEN COM- 
MANDMENTS, by Dean Stanley. 

THE MEMOIRS OF JESUS, by Rev. Robert F. Horton. 
HYMNS OF PRAISE AND GLADNESS, by Elisabeth 
R. Scovil. 

DIFFICULTIES, by Hannah Whitall Smith. 
GAMBLERS AND GAMBLING, by Rev, Henry Ward 
Beecher. 

HAVE FAITH IN GOD, by Rev. Andrew Murray. 
TWELVE CAUSES OF DISHONESTY, by Rev. Henry 
Ward Beecher. 

THE CHRIST IN WHOM CHRISTIANS BELIEVE, 
by Rt. Rev. Phillips Brooks. 

IN MY NAME, by Rev. Andrew Murray. 

SIX WARNINGS, by Rev. Henry Ward Beecher. 

THE DUTY OF THE CHRISTIAN BUSINESS MAN, 
by Rt. Rev. Phillips Brooks. 

POPULAR AMUSEMENTS, by Rev. Henry Ward 
Beecher. 

TRUE LIBERTY, by Rt. Rev. Phillips Brooks. 
INDUSTRY AND IDLENESS, by Rev. Henry Ward 
Beecher. 

THE BEAUTY OF A LIFE OF SERVICE, by Rt. 

Rev. Phillips Brooks. 

THE SECOND COMING OF OUR LORD, by Rev. A. 
T. Pierson, D.D. 

THOUGHT AND ACTION, by Rt. Rev. Phillips Brooks. 
THE HEAVENLY VISION, by Rev. F. B. Meyer. 
MORNING STRENGTH, by Elisabeth R. Scovil. 

FOR THE QUIET HOUR, by Edith V. Bradt. 
EVENING COMFORT, by Elisabeth R. Scovil. 
WORDS OF HELP FOR CHRISTIAN GIRLS, by 
Rev. F. B. Meyer. 

HOW TO STUDY THE BIBLE, by Rev. Dwight L. 

Moody. 

EXPECTATION CORNER, by E. S. Elliot. 

JESSICA’S FIRST PRAYER, by Hesba Stretton. 


HENRY ALTEMUS, 

507, 509, 511, 513 Cherry Street, Philadelphia. 




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TS3503 

."RaasTk 

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Copyrighted by Henry A/ten/us, of Philadelphia, in the State of Pennsyl- 
vania, on June iq, iSq 7, in the One Hundred and Twenty-first Year 
of the Independence of the United States of A merica. 


(jo 


Henry Altemus, Manufacturer, 

PHILADELPHIA. 


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) i 


“AND YE SHALL FIND REST. ,, 


I was weary and worn; 

I had toiled all day, 

From the early morn 
Till the twilight gray; 

And I rested at last in the fading light, 

As the stars peeped out in the gathering 
night. 

But my heart was sore 
And my spirit faint, 

And as never before 
Did I make complaint; 

For my pathway was hedged about with 
care, 

And my burden seemed greater than I could 
bear. 

The path was so steep, 

And my strength was gone; 

I could but weep 

As the night came on. 

But the Angel of Sleep, with a pitying eye, 
Took note of my grief as he passed me by, — 


4 


‘ AND YE SHALL FIND REST 


And he bore me away 
To the Shadow-land, 

Where dream-spirits stray 
On a shining strand; 

There I wandered ’mid scenes I had never 
known; 

In a strange, far land I was all alone. 

The rest was sweet, 

And the land was fair; 

But my heart still beat 
With a load of care; 

For I yearned for “my own” in that far-off 
land — 

For the sound of a voice, and the touch of a 
hand. 

There were fragrant flowers 
For my empty hands; 

There were vine-clad bowers 
On the shining sands; 

But my heart cried out for its loved ones 
there, 

And my old-time burdens grew strangely 
fair. 


“AND YE SHALL FIND REST ” 5 

Then my spirit bowed 

’Neath a weight of shame, 

And I cried aloud 

In the Master’s name, 

Who had fitted the burdens of life to me, 
And had borne my murmurings patiently. 


I opened my eyes 

In the dear home-nest; 

And, whate’er He denies, 

I now safely rest 

In the love that has taught me at last to see 
That my Lord knoweth well what is best for 
me. 

It was only a dream; 

But never again 
Can I lightly esteem 

What I yearned for then. 

The way is so plain when I follow my Guide, 
And sweet is the rest of the eventide. 


“AS YE WOULD.” 


If I should see 

A brother languishing in sore distress, 

And I should turn and leave him comfortless. 
When I might be 

A messenger of hope and happiness — 

How could I ask to have what I denied, 

In my own hour of bitterness supplied. 

If I might share 

A brother’s load along the dusty way, 

And I should turn and walk alone that day, 
How could I dare — 

When in the evening watch I knelt to 
pray— 

To ask for help to bear my pain and loss, 

If I had heeded not my brother’s cross? 

If I might sing 

A little song to cheer a fainting heart, 

And I should seal my lips and sit apart, 
When I might bring 

A bit of sunshine for life’s ache and smart — 
How could I hope to have my grief relieved 
If I kept silent when my brother grieved? 


LIFE'S WEAVING 


7 


And so I know 

That day is lost wherein I fail to lend 
A helping- hand to some wayfaring friend; 
But if it show 

A burden lightened by the cheer I send — 
Then do I hold the golden hours well spent, 
And lay me down to sleep in sweet content. 


LIFE’S WEAVING. 

We are weaving the thread of our life-webs, 
Day by day; 

And its colors are sometimes somber; 
Sometimes gay: 

For we dye it with every passing thought, 
And with words and deeds is the pattern 
wrought. 

The pattern will grow into likeness 
Of our creed; 

If the thought be loving and tender, 

Fair the deed, — 

It glows with a beauty rich and rare, 

And its fadeless colors are passing fair. 


8 


SEED-TIME AND HARVEST 


But, alas! it is interwoven 
Oft with sin; 

And the somber thread of an evil thought 
Is woven in; 

The pattern is marred as the shuttles fly, 

And the colors fade as the days go by. 

We are weaving our webs for eternity, 

Day by day; 

If we make the pattern beautiful — 

As we may — 

The Master-weaver will, one by one, 

Test the glowing colors, and say, “Well 
done.” 

Our weaving days will be over 
By and by; 

And the busy shuttles motionless 
And silent lie. 

God grant that each weaver may do his best, 

That his finished fabric may stand the test! 


SEED-TIME AND HARVEST. 

Seed-time and nesting birds; 

The air is all heavy with perfume rare; 
The hope of the summer is everywhere, 
And a joy too full for words. 


SEED-TIME AND HARVEST 


9 


Orchards all blossom-crowned; 

The old earth wrapped in the mantle of 
spring, 

And a brooding promise in everything, 
And a happiness new found. 

Skies with an azure light; 

Zephyrs that scatter their sweets as they 
pass, 

And violets dotting the springing grass, 
And a world all fair and bright. 


Harvest, and birds a- wing; 

Orchard and vineyard with rich fruitage 
crowned, 

And a golden sheen on the sheaves well- 
bound — 

Fulfilment in everything. 

Leaves that flutter and fall, 

And skies that mourn ’neath a mystic veil, 
For the fading beauty of hill and vale, 
And a sweet peace over all. 

Life has its spring and fall ; 

Its nesting birds, and its birds a-wing; 
Its fair seed-time and its harvesting, 

And the dear Lord over all. 


IO 


A THANKSGIVING PARABLE 


Life has its falling leaf — 

When the Reaper gathers the ripened 
grain, . 

And binds it securely with love’s strong 
chain, 

In a shining, golden sheaf. 


A THANKSGIVING PARABLE. 

Within a gallery where hang the gems 
The world has crowned with Fame’s fair 
diadems — 

A treasure-house complete — 

I pass along the corridors, and turn 
From light to shade, from glad to sad, and 
learn 

A lesson strangely sweet. 

For here a picture breathes of joy untold, 
And there one tells of sorrows manifold; 

But still the Master-hand 
In every well-directed touch I see: 

In sad and glad life’s lesson comes to me, 
And I can understand. 

For life is but a gallery wherein 

The boundless mercy of the Lord is seen; 


A THANKSGIVING PARABLE 


ii 


Where, by his Master-hand, 

The lights and shadows skillfully are blent, 
And glad and sad alike in love are sent, 
And all is wisely planned. 

So may I take thy gifts, O Lord of all! 

And hang them, one by one, on memory’s 
wall, 

And with a glad surprise, 

In light and shade, see life grow fair and 
sweet; 

Through glad and sad, thy work become 
complete 

Before my wondering eyes. 

How often have I blessed Thee for the glad, 
And murmured when Thou gavest me the 
sad; 

But now, in light and shade, 

In glad and sad, the Master-hand I see: 

The love that portions out my gifts to me 
Is everywhere displayed. 

So through life’s corridors I pass, and bring 
My glad hosannas to my Lord and King — • 
My heart doth sing His praise; 

And, whether glad or sad my lot may be, 

I know His love shall still encircle me 
Through all the passing days. 


THE BOW IN THE CLOUD. 


All day long the clouds had lowered. 
And the rain had swept the earth, 
Till it lay as fair and beautiful 
As when God gave it birth; 

Then the sunset splendor falling, 

Set a rainbow in the sky; 

And I learned life’s hardest lesson 
As the clouds were drifting by. 

For the radiant sunset glory, 

Falling on my raptured eyes 
As the clouds were lifted, thrilled me 
With a rare and sweet surprise. 

But if life were all fair weather, 

As the fleeting days go by, 

We should never know the beauty 
Of the rainbow in the sky. 

As the sun seems all the brighter 
For the troublous clouds that rise, 
So our tears but clear our vision 
For the rainbow’s glad surprise. 

And our hearts are all the purer 
For the Father’s chastening hand, 
While our faith grows clearer, trusting 
Where we cannot understand. 

12 


THE GOOD SHEPHERD 


i3 


So, if hearts were free from sorrow, 
Eyes were never filled with tears, 
We should never know the rapture 
When the Comforter appears — 
When we rest upon His bosom, 

As the passing moments roll, 

And the Father’s smile caressing, 
Sets a rainbow in the soul. 


THE GOOD SHEPHERD. 

I saw one journeying up the mountain-side, 

With toilsome step and slow; 

The night fell fast, and all the paths were 
white 

With heaps of drifting snow. 

“Friend, whither goest thou?” amazed, I 
cried, 

While fiercer raged the blast; 

“Thou surely wilt not seek to climb the 
mount 

Until the storm is past!” 


14 


THE GOOD SHEPHERD 


And, as He paused to make reply, I saw 
A thorn-crown on His head; 

The prints of nails were in His hands and 
feet, 

And blood-marks in His tread. 

“I go to seek my wandering sheep,” He said, 
With tenderness untold; 

“1 may not rest until I bring it safe 
Within the sheltering fold. 

“My nine and ninety safely folded are, 

But one has gone astray; 

My shepherd-heart yearns o’er the wander- 
ing one, 

And I must not delay.” 

I watched Him toiling up the mountain-side 
Till, from the rocky steep, 

I heard His triumph-cry, “Rejoice! Rejoice! 
For I have found my sheep.” 

Dear heart, the tender Shepherd seeks for 
you, 

Nor wearies in His quest; 

Above the raging storm He calls, “Come 
home, 

And I will give you rest.” 


THE MESSAGE OF THE EASTER- 
TIDE. 


Last spring 

I laid a bulb beneath the cold, brown earth, 
And waited for its Easter blossoming. 
Sometimes, when storms raged fiercely all 
about, 

My anxious heart was given o’er to doubt; 
I thought my tender bulb must surely die 
Ere winter, with its bitter storms, passed by. 

But lo! 

I found to-day, upon a slender stalk, 

A stately lily, white as drifted snow, 

A sunbeam nestling in its heart of gold — 
A thing of beauty and of grace untold. 
And, like a dream of incense rich and rare, 
It sends its fragrance stealing through the 
air. 


And so 

The tender Father sends the Easter joy 
To hearts that faint when storms of sorrow 
blow. 


i6 


‘ COME YE APART 


And white-winged Hope points from the 
buried dead 

To where the stately lily lifts its head, 
Breathing the message of the Eastertide: 
“The Lord is risen that was crucified.” 

Dear heart, 

The Lord of all the lilies loveth thee, 

And grieves to see thee mourn and sit apart. 
Beyond earth’s tears and storms and mid- 
night gloom, 

In joy unspeakable thy loved ones bloom; 
They sing the message of the Eastertide: 
“The Lord is risen that was crucified.” 


“COME YE APART.” 

Come ye apart; 

I know, dear heart, that thou art sorely 
pressed; 

Thy load is heavy; much thou needest rest; 
Come ye apart, and lean upon my breast. 

Come ye apart; 

I know the way, for I have travelled there; 
I know its weariness and weight of care — 
Gethsemane for thee I had to bear. 


LOVE'S YESTERDAY 


1 7 


Come ye apart; 

When sorrow’s tempests round about thee 
blow, 

And grief and pain have brought thy spirit 
low, 

Thy heaviness of heart full well I know. 

Come ye apart; 

And in the quiet of some desert place 

I will commune with thee, as face to face, 

And thou shalt gather needed stores of 
grace. 

Come ye apart; 

Dear heart, I know that thou art sore dis- 
tressed; 

Why wander longer, weary and unblessed? 

Come unto Me, and I will give thee rest. 


LOVE’S YESTERDAY. 

’Twas only yesterday 

That floods of sunshine bathed my happy 
heart, 

And in life’s sweetest strains I bore a part. 
I caroled all day long 
In careless, happy song, 

Yesterday. 


i8 


LOVES YESTERDAY 


Oh, joyous yesterday! 

No cloud obscured the brightness of thy 
sun: 

Thy golden hours were freighted, one by 
one, 

With gifts I scarcely prized, — 

With joys half-realized, 

Yesterday. 

Oh, pain-fraught yesterday! 

Thy sunset glory flooded earth and sea, 
When in the gathering gloom, all suddenly, 
My treasure went away 
To never-ending day, 

Yesterday. 

Oh, love-crowned yesterday! 

Thy fragrant memories crowd upon my 
heart, 

As in my darkened home I sit apart, 

And miss the fond caress, 

The love and tenderness, 

Of yesterday. 

Oh, sweet, sad yesterday! 

Life’s music holds henceforth a minor 
strain, — 

A chord that vibrates with a note of pain; 
The faint, sweet echoes ring 
With songs I cannot sing 
Since yesterday. 


MY ANSWERED PRAYER 


19 


Oh, far-off yesterday! 

My heart would fain recall love’s mute 
caress, 

And meet it with an answering tenderness; 
Too late! through tear-dimmed eyes 
I see love’s sacrifice, 

Yesterday. 

Thy lesson, yesterday, 

I learn through tears that fall like summer 
rain ; 

But, through the gloom, I catch the sweet 
refrain: 

“Love’s sun can never set; 

Give o’er thy vain regret, 

And crown with love each fleeting 
yesterday.” 


MY ANSWERED PRAYER. 

I would, dear Lord, that Thou shouldst set 
for me 

Some lowly task; 

That I may prove the love I bear for Thee 
Is all I ask. 


20 


MY ANSWERED PRAYER 


Long time I waited, till my heart at last 
Impatient grew; 

Still but the common duties of the past 
I found to do. 

Only the old-time weariness and pain, — 
The well-known cross; 

The labors manifold and ofttimes vain, 

The bitter loss. 

Only the wonted round of daily care 
And anxious thought; 

The burdens I had always had to bear — 
Not these I sought. 

“Oh, Lord,” I cried again, impatiently, 
“But this I ask: 

Set me, that I may prove my love for Thee, 
Some lowly task.” 

And lo! a voice made answer, clear and 
sweet : 

“Oh, child of Mine, 

Thy common duties are a service meet — 

A task divine. 

“Make every act complete, and, whether 
small 

Or great it be, 

It matters not, if thou but do it all 
As unto Me.” 


MARYS MEMORIAL 


21 


And so I take my burdens, one by one, 
With fresh delight; 

And every common task grows fair, when 
done 

As in His sight. 


MARY’S MEMORIAL. 

“Let her alone!” and at the Master’s word 
The stern rebuke is hushed. The while 
the air 

Is heavy-laden with a perfume rare, 

As Mary pours her gift upon her Lord. 

“Let her alone! Her costly offering, 

With love and sacrifice so richly fraught, 
A goodly work on Me, her Lord, hath 
wrought — 

Her royal gift doth honor to her King.” 

“Let her alone! What she hath done this 
day 

While ages roll shall unforgotten be: 
Where’er the Gospel’s preached, from sea 
to sea, 

It shall be a memorial for aye.” 


22 


ONLY 


Oh, blessed words of comfort! understood 
So well by tired Marys of to-day, — 

What joy if e’en of me the Master say: 
“Let her alone! she hath done what she 
could.” 


ONLY. 

Only a violet, 

Blue as the skies; 

But it mirrors the spring 
In its azure eyes. 

Only a lark, 

High in the air; 

But it sings of hope, 

And the world grows fair. 

Only the patter 
Of April showers; 

But it wakes to life 
The sweet May flowers. 

Only a sunset — 

Earth glorified; 

But it sweetens the rest 
Of the eventide. 


ONLY 


23 


Only a word, 

Tenderly spoken; 

But it comforts a heart 
That is well-nigh broken. 

Only a song 

From a fresh young heart; 
But it cheers a life 
That is lived apart. 

Only a friend 

In a time of need; 

But it saves a soul 
From an evil deed. 

And song and bird, 

And April shower; 

And friend and word, 

And sweet May flower, 

Are but a part 

Of God’s great plan, 

To teach the lessons 
Of life to man. 


HE IS RISEN. 


“Why weepest thou? Whom seekest thou?” 
Empty the silent tomb; 

Over the midnight gloom: 

A heavenly radiance on his brow, 

The Saviour speaks to Mary now. 

He speaks, and all unrecognized, 

The while her eyes are dim 
With bitter tears for Him; 

The hope her soul so dearly prized 
Seems but a dream unrealized. 

In very blindness of her grief, 

Her inattentive ear 
Catches no note of cheer; 

So spent with tears of unbelief 
Her Lord’s own voice brings no relief. 

For He would try her, ere His voice 
In wonted tone should frame 
The oft-repeated name — 

Would prove, ere bidding to rejoice, 

The love that made of Him its choice. 

24 


‘CONSIDER THE LILIES 


25 


“Mary!” in accents strangely sweet 
Again the Saviour cries. 

Oh, glorious surprise! 
“Rabboni!” and with hurrying feet 
She runs the message to repeat. 


“Why weepest thou? Whom seekest thou?” 
To thee the Saviour saith: 

“Oh, ye of little faith!” 

Why stand with sorrow-clouded brow? 

Thy risen Lord is with thee now. 


“CONSIDER THE LILIES.” 

It was only an earthen vessel, 

By a weary worker’s loom; 

But a bunch of snowy lilies, 

With their delicate perfume, 

Concealed its imperfections, 

And glorified the room. 

They filled the air with their fragrance, 

And brightened the room with their 
grace; 

They smiled on the weary toilers, 

And lightened each careworn face, 

Till it seemed that a benediction 
Was resting on all the place. 


26 THE ECHO OF THE ANGELS’ SONG 


And the humble earthen vessel, 

That had seemed of no use before, 
’Neath its freight of snowy lilies, 

A glorified image wore: 

It was reckoned a part of the blessing; 
A share in the honor bore. 

Our lives are but earthen vessels, 

In the busy haunts of care; 

But in patient burden-bearing 

We may make them wondrous fair: 
And our deeds of loving service, 

Are the lilies that we bear. 


THE ECHO OF THE ANGELS’ SONG. 

Above the shining Christmas greens a silver 
star was beaming; 

Like fairy lamps alight the holly berries red 
were gleaming; 

The Christmas cheer was in the air; the 
Christmas bells were pealing, 

And through the stillness came the sound of 
Christmas music stealing. 


THE ECHO OF THE ANGELS’ SONG 27 


Among the worshippers I knelt in humble 
adoration: 

The peace of God seemed brooding o’er the 
waiting congregation, 

As up and down the stately aisles the singers, 
white appareled, 

Breathed forth the Christmas message in 
the songs they sweetly caroled. 

“Behold!” (the music rose and fell in notes 
of jubilation), 

“Glad tidings of great joy we bring to every 
tribe and nation; 

Fear not; in yonder sleeping town is born a 
Kingly Stranger — 

The long-expected Saviour rests in Bethle- 
hem’s humble manger.” 

“Peace on the earth; good will to men; set 
all the echoes ringing! 

Let every heart be glad, and every happy 
voice be singing, 

Be lifted up, ye hearts bowed down, forget 
your care and sadness; 

The Christ-child comes to bring the world a 
Christmas gift of gladness.” 

The music faint and fainter grew; a sudden 
hush fell o’er us; 


28 RESIGNATION 

For heaven’s benediction came with that tri- 
umphal chorus; 

It fell upon our waiting hearts and lifted 
them to heaven — 

The echo of the angels’ song to weary mor- 
tals given. 


RESIGNATION. 

God knoweth best. It is not meet 
That we should murmur at His will: 
’Tis ours to “suffer and be still,” 
Low lying at His feet. 

He knoweth best. Our blinded eyes, 
So dim with unshed tears, can see 
No light athwart the gloom, till He 
Shall bid the clouds arise. 

He knoweth best. We cannot tell 
Why He doth sever tender ties; ) 
We only know that He is wise: 

He doeth all things well. 


‘INTO THE DEEP 


29 


He knoweth best. And He will keep, 
Though near or far, His watch between. 
His tender care, though all unseen, 
“Shall slumber not, nor sleep.” 

He knoweth best. His love hath planned 
Each step that marks our onward way; 
’Tis ours to trust Him, come what may, 
“Our times are in His hand.” 

He knoweth best who loveth best. 

He leadeth us from day to day; 

’Tis ours to follow all the way, 

And leave to Him the rest. 


“INTO THE DEEP.” 

The empty nets trailed in the quiet sea 
That held its own within its close embrace. 
The little boat had moved from place to 
place, 

But still the fishermen toiled fruitlessly 
Until the night was o’er, 

And spent with toil they fain would go 
ashore. . 


30 


‘INTO THE DEEP: 


The morning broke in glory o’er the sea, 

As on the sun-kissed shore One stood 
alone, 

Yearning with pitying heart to bless His 
own: 

And, hopeless, they knew not that it was He 
Who stood upon the shore, 

Until He greeted them as oft of yore. 

“Launch out into the deep !” he cried. “In 
vain 

They seek the prize who linger near the 
shore.” 

And lo! their nets were filled as ne’er be- 
fore, 

As at His word they let them down again, 
Where, many fathoms deep, 

The waters could their own no longer 
keep. 

And so to hopeless toilers on life’s sea 

There comes a voice from yonder sun- 
kissed shore, — 

“Launch out into the deep ! and evermore 

Thy lowered nets shall full to breaking be.” 
So, heart of mine, set sail, 

And cast thy nets where blessings never 
fail. 


MIZPAH. 


It may be mine 

The stormy waves to breast; 

It may be thine 

By quiet streams to rest; 

Yet everywhere 

The Lord His watch doth keep; 
His tender care 

Guards e’en His wandering sheep. 
It may be mine 

The mountain heights to scale; 

It may be thine 

To skirt the shadowy vale; 

And yet I know 

That He will keep us there; 

We cannot go 

Beyond His guardian care. 

It may be mine 

To drink at Marah’s well; 

It may be thine 

In tents of ease to dwell; 

And yet between, 

His loving care shall be; 

And He will e’en 

Keep watch ’twixt me and thee. 
3i 


32 


LIFE'S RECKONING. 


It shall be mine 

To reach the promised land; 

It shall be thine 

On that bright shore to stand; 
The path is steep 

For weary feet to roam; 

But He will keep 

His watch, and bring us home. 


LIFE’S RECKONING. 

To love — mark you, to love; 

Not to bestow upon a chosen few 
Affection which is every creature’s due. 

God never meant that any human heart 
Should bid a loveless fellow-man depart. 
Nay, rather, His divine economy 
Hath made provision bountiful and free, 
Whereby the heart in giving groweth rich; 
In scattering, increaseth. By the which 
The lover is beloved, and his way 
Can never be all barren, come what may. 

For love enkindleth love, and rich is he 
Who loves his fellow-man unsparingly. 
Therefore I hold, through earth’s unequal 
strife, 


ALTEMUS’ 

BELLES-LETTRES SERIES. 

A collection of Essays and Addresses by eminent English 
and American Authors, beautifully printed and daintily 
bound in leatherette, with original designs in silver. 


PRICE, 25 CENTS PER VOLUME. 


INDEPENDENCE DAY, by Rev. Edward E. Hale. 
THE SCHOLAR IN POLITICS, by Hon. Richard 
Olney. 

THE YOUNG MAN IN BUSINESS, by Edward W. 
Bok. 

THE YOUNG MAN AND THE CHURCH, by Edward 
W. Bok. 

THE SPOILS SYSTEM, by Hon. Carl Schurz. 
CONVERSATION, by Thomas De Quincey. 
SWEETNESS AND LIGHT, by Matthew Arnold. 
WORK, by John Ruskin. 

NATURE AND ART, by Ralph Waldo Emerson. 

THE USE AND MISUSE OF BOOKS, by Frederic 

Harrison. 

THE MONROE DOCTRINE: ITS ORIGIN, MEAN- 
ING AND APPLICATION, by Prof. John Bach 
McMaster (University of Pennsylvania). 

THE DESTINY OF MAN, by Sir John Lubbock. 
LOVE AND FRIENDSHIP, by Ralph Waldo Emerson. 
RIP VAN WINKLE, by Washington Irving. 

ART, POETRY AND MUSIC, by Sir John Lubbock. 
THE CHOICE OF BOOKS, by Sir John Lubbock. 
MANNERS, by Ralph Waldo Emerson. 

CHARACTER, by Ralph Waldo Emerson. 

THE LEGEND OF SLEEPY HOLLOW, by Wash- 
ington Irving. 

THE BEAUTIES OF NATURE, by Sir John Lubbock. 
SELF RELIANCE, by Ralph Waldo Emerson. 

THE DUTY OF HAPPINESS, by Sir John Lubbock. 
SPIRITUAL LAWS, by Ralph Waldo Emerson. 

OLD CHRISTMAS, bv Washington Irving. 

HEALTH, WEALTH AND THE BLESSING OF 
FRIENDS, by Sir John Lubbock. 

INTELLECT, by Ralph Waldo Emerson. 

WHY AMERICANS DISLIKE ENGLAND, by Prof. 
Geo. B. Adams (Yale). 

THE HIGHER EDUCATION AS A TRAINING FOR 
BUSINESS, by Prof. Harry Pratt Judson (University 
of Chicago). 

MISS TOOSEY’S MISSION. 

LADDIE. 

J. COLE, by Emma Gellibrand. 


HENRY ALTEMUS, 

507, 509, 511, 513 Cherry Street, Philadelphia. 




















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